


Friends, Lovers, Countrymen

by gala_apples



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Activism, Alternate Universe - High School, Drama Class, Kitchen Sex, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-28
Updated: 2012-08-28
Packaged: 2017-11-13 01:38:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/497993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You can only offend a high school drama geek for so long before they decide to make a scene.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friends, Lovers, Countrymen

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this picture: http://www.fanpop.com/spots/my-chemical-romance/images/17027404/title/chemical-romance-spin-magazine-photoshoot-december-2010-photo?ir=true

“You guys are going to get arrested for theft. I’m going back inside.” It’s not that Mikey’s scared of cops. It’s just that going to the station would interrupt the Diablo game he’d just started when Bob came over to hang out. His barbarian is only level three, he’d planned on spending the day powering up. Leaving it at three is almost insulting.

“Where’s the fun in that, Mikeyway. Join our brilliant caper.” Frank is grinning, absently checking the rope burns on his palms. Mikey’s standing too far away to really get a good look, but figures they can’t be that bad. Frank’s hands are nearly all callous between his part time job and all the set building he does with scraps, they won’t scar easy. And if they were blistered he’d be waving them all up in everyone’s face. He’s that kind of guy.

“We won’t get arrested if we make a scene.” 

Mikey eyeballs the nine foot wide inflatable panda on the middle of his lawn. It makes his point for him, really.

“No, I mean more of a scene. Like turn it into an event instead of vandalism.”

“Tell me you didn’t damage it.” If Gerard has to pay for it he’ll lack funds for a year, and Mikey will bare the brunt of Gerard’s bitching about not being able to afford new markers.

“It’s fine. Maybe a little scuffed, but no rips or anything.” Ray sounds confident. Mikey can trust Ray’s sanity level a little more than Frank’s or Gerard’s, so it makes him feel a bit better. 

“Whatever scene it’s gonna be, we need to figure it out soon. They’re gonna figure out it’s gone.”

“How about we pull a hippie? Chain ourselves to it and not give it up until our demands are met?”

“It’s a giant inflatable panda, not a hostage,” Mikey feels compelled to point out.

“No. We’re the hostages, kidnapped by a world that doesn’t care.”

Okay, and with that Mikey is officially done. He always loves his older brother, but the histrionics can get really old sometimes. Especially at eight in the morning, without coffee. He can either make a pot or go back to bed. It seems like rewarding bad behaviour if he makes one now though. Ray and Frank and Gerard don’t get coffee if they’re breaking laws. Besides, Bob is still in his bed, generating enough heat to render blankets useless. His morning is much better spent there, even if he can’t get back to sleep. He was content to lay there, awake and in his arms watching the birds on the branches, until he saw something confusing out the window. He can watch them again now.

Unfortunately, Mikey isn’t the most graceful of people. It’s part of the reason he doesn’t really get in on the theatre thing. Part of it is that Gerard needs his audience. Sometimes there’s only a handful people watching, sometimes not even every actor’s family shows up. But Mikey will always be there. But the other part is that he’s not suited for any of the major roles. He can’t act like Gerard because he can’t do blocking worth a damn. He can’t manage sets like Frank because he’d tumble off the scaffolding. He can’t film the productions like Ray because he’d drop the thousand dollar camera. He’s not good with limb movements. So it’s hardly a surprise that he trips on his way back into bed. On his way down he throws a hand out so he doesn’t land with a thud that wakes Bob, and of course ends up elbowing him.

“You broken?” Bob rumbles lowly.

“No.”

“Then crawl in.” 

Bob lifts a corner of the blanket to make room for Mikey. His warm spot was on the opposite side of the bed, but he can be spooned on this side. It’s a fair trade. They spend a few lazy minutes making out. Bob’s got morning wood, and it really would be a shame to not put it to use. But they’re both yawning around kisses, and finally Bob pulls back to suggest “coffee, then handjobs?”

“Better than going to church.” Mikey hasn’t been in a while, but unless the event has changed drastically, he’s sure sex with a friend is a better expenditure of a Sunday morning.

When they get into the kitchen all five of Mikey’s senses are assaulted. The huge omelet that’s cooking in the frying pan double the size of the element has fumes coming off it so strong it can be both smelled and tasted. It’s also sizzling, a sound nearly drowned out by the radio playing a generic Nickelback wanna-be. Thankfully that too is nearly drowned out, because Bob is breathing into his ear, pressed fully against his back. 

Bob’s erect against his ass cheek, and Mikey doesn’t blame him. He defies anyone to see what’s in front of him and not be turned on. Gerard is sitting on the counter, jeans discarded god only knows where, and Frank’s face is buried in his pubes. His bent over frame makes it easy for Ray to finger him. It’s not the first time Mikey’s seen any of the equipment, but it is the first time in this configuration. Like a Transformer. And like a new Transformer Mikey wants in, wants to be part of experiencing it. 

But first things first. There will be no sex for anyone if his brother and best friends get arrested. “You plan out your strategy?”

Frank can’t answer, mouth occupied, and Mikey knows from experience that Gerard is bad with talking through head, so it comes as no surprise that Ray answers. “Yeah, we’re gonna eat breakfast, and fuck, and then we’re going to call news stations and talk about why we did this.”

“Because you’re insane?”

Gerard reaches out to tug on Frank’s hair and pull him to a stop. With the stillness, he can talk. “Hey. It’s fucked up the jocks are having a fundraiser for new uniforms. They got new uniforms when I was a freshman. It’s been six years since the last time the theatre program got funds.”

“Preaching to the converted, Gee.” Mikey is well aware of the injustices of high school life. The injustices of the world, even, as they filter through Gerard’s eyes reading blogs and out his mouth in rant form.

Still in the door frame behind Mikey, Bob gestures. “We can join in, right?”

“The omelet or the sex?” Ray questions.

“Sex. It’s too early for food.” Mikey doesn’t eat before noon.

“Yeah, why not? Five makes for more options than three.”

“If we’re having an orgy, we should eat the omelet first. Otherwise it’s gonna burn.” Of all the friends Mikey has sex with, Ray is always the most practical. It’s almost funny.

“Is it ready?”

“It’s not raw, and the other option is it turning black while we fuck, so.”

Ray pulls his fingers out of Frank, and Frank pulls his mouth off of Gerard, and they all migrate three feet to the left. Ray’s still fully dressed as he slices the eggs into thirds and puts them on plates. Frank’s jeans are back up, but his zipper is undone so his cock doesn’t chafe against the metal. Mikey’s thoroughly unsurprised that Gerard sits on his normal chair bare ass naked. He’s Gerard, after all.

“I want to fuck someone,” Bob comments a minute later. There are only four chairs in the kitchen -the dining room is where holiday dinners go down, with the big furniture to match- so Mikey’s perched on Bob, a leg on either side of his knee.

Frank’s easily understandable around his mouthful of egg when he replies “awesome, I want to get fucked.” 

“Shotgun,” Mikey calls. He's in the mood to have both. He's actually quite impressed with his initiative. The others don't seem to share the sentiment. 

“You can't shotgun sex, what the fuck?”

“I am completely shotgunning Bob fucking me, and me fucking Frank. I can suck your dick and jerk Ray off, but I’m totally shotgunning Bob fucking me and me fucking Frank.”

“Screw that. You can blow me, and then you can blow your brother. Fuck handjobs.” Of all the friends Mikey has sex with, Ray’s always the most forceful. That’s less funny, more hot.

Gerard puts his fork down and reaches for coffee that’s not there. He frowns, then joins the conversation. “Anyone think of a position that can make it happen all at once?”

“I can’t fit you and Ray in my mouth at the same time, Gee.” If he even tried the sides of his mouth would split, and that shit takes medicated Blistex and like a month of eating carefully to heal. He’s got his limits.

“If you laid on the floor on your back, I could fuck you and Frank could ride you, probably? He’d have to stretch his legs wide, but he’s a little contortionist fucker, so. And Ray could sit on your chest?”

Mikey is totally down with his plan. And even if it doesn’t work, they’ll figure something else out. They’ve got hours before his parents get home from church bingo, more than enough time for everyone to get off. There’s only one problem. After he shucks off his robe and lies on the cool linoleum he can _see_ it. “Either we need to go to another room, or I’m doing this with my eyes closed. I can see the shadow of the giant fucking panda out the window. If I start laughing while I’m sucking dick I will choke to death.”

“What? Death by cock not good enough for you?”

“Shut up and get the lube.”

“You didn’t already have it?”

“Frank wanted to see how far he could go dry.”

“You twisted fuck-” Bob breathes. But he grabs his dick as he says it, so Mikey figures he’s not that offended.

“It was an experiment Bryar, chill. But go get the lube, ‘cause I’m not trying again now. I’m not doing the splits _and_ taking it dry.”

There’s a stalemate of sorts, everyone looking at each other to see who will break first and leave the kitchen to get it. Gerard breaks, leaves the room rolling his eyes. A good thing, probably. He’s the only one that would be able to find his bottle. Mikey can guarantee that if Ray or Bob or Frank had broken, they would have gone to his room. He’s not tidy, but he’s not Gerard.

The positioning works. It’s not the most comfortable fuck Mikey’s had; his neck is straining and there are heavy limbs all over his torso. But he’s of the opinion that if you’re worried about comfort when you’re trying to have sex, you’re too old or too boring to be having it at all. He doesn’t keep his eyes closed the whole time, as much as he knows he should. Bob’s grunts, Frank’s choked giggles, Ray’s groans, Gerard’s sighs; he knows what they’re about, he can feel the why of the noises. He still wants to see them.

Gerard shoots down his throat nearly immediately after Mikey takes the head of his dick into his mouth. It’s not fair, of course, Mikey knows the tricks of making him come. Gerard, unlike nearly any other boy, likes light biting. Mikey’s sure Frank knows that too, though he couldn’t say about Bob or Ray. Frank and Gerard share a bit of a pain kink he’s not sure the other two would get. Gerard’s already on edge, jerking himself off the whole time Mikey was sucking Ray. One or two scrapes and he’s done.

Mikey loves the way Bob feels when he comes inside him. Loves the way it feels when anyone comes in him. One of the many good things about having exclusive relationships with all your best friends it’s not having to worry about dick-crud. Bob came in him last night, and he’s coming in him now, and just like last night it makes Mikey tense and clench and throw his head back -this time hitting hard floor instead of soft pillow- and come. He scratches deep lines into any part of Frank he can reach, knowing he’ll appreciate it. Mikey might not know shit about paddles and stuff, but he can always oblige with the little things, like nails and teeth.

Frank comes last, purposely. He’s stubborn like that. It’s not quite orgasm denial, he doesn’t stand up and wait for his erection to subside. He just likes to be the last one. It could almost be considered gentlemanly, if it wasn’t out of some kind of spite.

Ray throws his robe over his body, once it becomes obvious that Mikey’s not going to reach for it himself. He’s already fully dressed, and Bob is grabbing the boxers he came downstairs in. Mikey knows within five minutes he’ll be going back up to grab a full outfit, Frank probably following him to shower. Gerard on the other hand, is sitting naked on the carpet in the hallway with the telephone book on his knee. When he grunts Ray tosses him a cellphone, it doesn’t really matter whose.

“Hello? Yes. I’d like to report a hostage taking.”

“Holy fuck, we are going to get arrested,” Mikey mutters. Stupid Gerard. Now his barbarian is never going to reach its potential.


End file.
